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Coronation Street

Herself started watching it years ago, and seeing as I tend to share the room, I watch it also.

I will be honest and say that I quite enjoy it. Its main purpose in my life is to help me remember what day of the week it is. For example, I vaguely remember watching it last night, therefore today has to be Tuesday, Friday or Saturday. It can’t be Sunday, Monday, Wednesday or Thursday, as none of those days follow a night where the programme has been on. Also I can eliminate Friday as the programme is on that night and I’m fairly sure it isn’t on tonight. In fact, I am fairly sure, using my excellent logic that today is Tuesday, and this is born out by the little yoke on the corner of my computer screen that says Tue, 19 Oct.

One of the things I like about Coronation Street is that all the characters are so fucking obnoxious. We are supposed to care because someone has been raped, mugged or murdered. Quite honestly I usually cheer on the perpetrator of any crime.

And talking of crime, I tried to do a head count of the Street’s residents who had been [or who still are] in prison. I gave up in the end and just counted the ones who hadn’t. It was easier.

An aspect of the programme I find very strange is that I can never remember any of the character’s names. I tend to have my own names for them , such as The Chinless Wonder who only has two emotions – simpering adoration of her ghastly two sons or righteous indignation. Then there is Twang-Neck who spends her time pissing off her husband [the boring one] or chatting to The Tart who runs the pub. I call her Twang Neck because whenever she gets annoyed [which is fairly often] all the tendons in her neck stand out and I get an urge to twang them. Then there is Helium Boy who runs the butchers. You get my drift.

For a tiny street, there is one hell of a lot going on too. In the past few years I have lost count of the murders, suicides, attempted murders and fires. Britain but be a very uncomfortable place to live in if that street is anything to go by,

Jayzus! Even reading it over again made me fall asleep. Eastenders? Nah! They’re all too fucking miserable. As for Fair City – seeing as I had to pass that fucking street every day on my way into the office, the last thing I want is a reminder of that kip.

Well, I wrote a comment here and somehow it go lost before I submitted it. Now I can’t find it and even worse, I can’t remember what it was. All I recall is it was rather witty and well written–but now it’s gone.